


Mr. Blue Sky

by outerspaced0



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, DadSchlatt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ghostbur, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, More tags to be added, POV Alternating, Please read the tags please, TW! Suicide in the first chapter (major character death tag), Tommy loses a lot of his sense of taste :<, WIP UPDATES MAY BE SPARSE, arctic time, ghostschlatt!, i don't want people getting hurt because of this TwT, ily platonically :), phantommy, soup!, space - freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28594089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outerspaced0/pseuds/outerspaced0
Summary: Tommy dies.Ghost Tommy wakes up near a farm.Ghost Schlatt owns the farm.Chaos ensues as both slowly regain memories and figure things out.Please read the tags!!
Relationships: Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 512





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KeiIsNotDead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiIsNotDead/gifts), [SayroBaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayroBaby/gifts), [pastelplantbean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelplantbean/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: SUICIDE  
> Please don't read the first part if suicide affects you in any way. I don't want people getting hurt over this silly little story.
> 
> You can skip up to the first 3 of these: ~
> 
> From there, no more mentions. :)

Tommy sighed as he sat at the edge, looking over the bright lava below. His knees were tucked up, his arms around them. 

He had planned this for a while. Writing notes, preparing gifts and things to remember him by, general preparation to leave the living world. 

In truth, he had no clue what happened when you lost your last life. Schlatt had died, and Tommy had never seen any ghost of his.

Wilbur died, and yet he still floated around this world, a sweet and clueless ghost blind to the things that he did when alive.

What would it be like, dying permanently?

Sure, the other times he died hurt like a bitch, but what would this be like? Would it hurt as well, or would he slowly fade into nothing, becoming a ghost or going wherever Schlatt was?

He stood up, pockets jangling a bit from all the belongings he had stuffed in there. Everything except his disks and the compass Ghostbur gave him. Those still lay in his enderchest, and only Tubbo knew the code.

Perhaps it was time to get on with it. He took a deep breath. Should he say something? What would he even say? Tommy hummed a bit. The world spun from exhaustion and dehydration as he stood there. 

"I guess Techno was right." He spoke quietly, words cutting the thick nether air like a knife. "Good things never do happen to heroes."

With that, he stepped over the edge.

~~~

Tommy slammed back face first into reality. His mind was foggy, was Tommy even his name? 

Others rushed through his mind, broken phrases and shattered words mixing in like gusts of wind.

He quickly sat up, having been laying in a field of soft grass. He ran his hand on it in curiosity. 

His hand was an ashy gray, semi opaque, and something told him that it being that way was wrong. 

Veins of bright magma ran through his skin like gold ore in rock. He doesn't why he used that comparison.

Silvery blobs of liquid danced in the air, and he touched one in curiosity. They vaguely registered as tears in his broken mind.

His hair was still blond, though lighter, and with red at the tips making it look like it was on fire. Perhaps it was.

His clothes were intact, familiar shirt, pants, and bandana all in one piece. They seemed slightly burned, though.

He stood up, looking around. There was a farm in the distance. Curiosity out weighed paranoia, and he walked, or, er, floated, towards it.

Flowers grew in bright shades, and animal noises pierced the former silence of the meadow. It was peaceful. It also felt the slightest bit wrong.

He flitted about, going from looking at the animals, to the flowers, to the fields growing all sorts of crops. It all looked well taken care of, who lived here?

He noticed a small cottage in the center on the farm. It was a nice light blue, with white accents and trimmings. Doing what seemed like the most logical, he knocked on the door.

Would anyone answer? He didn't know.

Someone did answer. The white door swung open slowly. A man floated there, a ghost like him, with brown hair, a blue sweater with a red heart patch on it and ram horns.

How did he know he was a ghost? How did he die? How did this man die? Where was he? Question rang in his head so loudly, he nearly missed the man greeting him.

"Hi there!" He said. The voice was... oddly familiar to him, to say the least. It struck a chord that he didn't think he liked. "I see you're dead too, huh." The man observed.

Tommy just shrugged. "My name is Schlatt. You are...?" Schlatt held out his in greeting. Tommy hesitated, before taking his hand and shaking. "Tommy, i think." He answered. 

"Tommy's a nice name." Schlatt commented. He beckoned Tommy inside. "Let me give you the tour, seeing as you'll probably stay with me." 

~~~

The tour was long. It lasted the whole day, but at least Tommy learned some things. First of all, the farm was even bigger than he thought. There were stables multiple different barns, a couple hen houses, and even a guest house where he would be staying.

Second, Schlatt had only been here for about two months. It was an amazing amount of progress having been done in that amount of time.

Third, he knew Schlatt. He didn't know how to explain it, but Schlatt was familiar and he didn't know why. It felt like a bad type of familiar, like he never wanted to see him again. It was confusing, since Schlatt seemed really kind.

Him memories got all bungled when he died. There are few thing he remembers, and he thinks Schlatt is one of them.

He decides, later that night, to write down what he knows, what remembers of being alive. He scoured the bookshelves of the room he was to rest in, and found an empty book. Perfect.

With a quill and ink, he sat at the desk and began to write.

The Things I Remember

By Tommyinnit

-Explosions

-Pain

-Lava

-Fighting

-The feeling of the sun on my face

-Music

-Sitting at a bench with a friend

-Someone named Dream not being very nice

-War

Perhaps not a lot, but a good start, he supposed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> philza time B )

Tommy stayed at the farm for about a week. Schlatt was a nice person, though he started work very early, in Tommy's opinion. 

Working on the farm wasn't half bad, either. It was hard work, but it was almost fun, in a way.

He liked the animals, in particular.

~~~

"Hey, Schlatt?" His new friend looked up from where he was planting carrots. "Yeah kid?" Schlatt replied, ever present smile on his face.

"How did you die?" Schlatt hummed a bit in thought. "Honestly, I can't remember." He started. "Perhaps it was something to do with my heart, what with the pin."

Tommy nodded. "I can't remember either." He said. "Maybe it's a ghost thing." Schlatt shrugged. "Maybe it is. We can't be the only ghosts in the world." 

Memories flashed into Tommy's mind. Gray skin, a yellow sweater, rain, books... Another ghost. "Did you remember something?" Schlatt asked, catching the look of recognition on Tommy's face.

He nodded frantically. "Another ghost. I remember another ghost." Schlatt looked at him curiously. "Do you remember where?" He asked slowly.

Tommy looked around, then turned back to Schlatt. "Do you have a nether portal?" He asked.

~~~

Schlatt led him to a small shed. Whooshing noises came from inside, and they were familiar in a way he couldn't discern. 

Schlatt flung the doors open. A large portal stood there, smooth obsidian gleaming in the light that streamed in. The purple of the portal glowed like a lantern.

"I made this a few weeks ago, but forgot why..." He trailed off as Tommy floated through the portal, and leaped in after him.

~~~

Tommy dashed across the dark landscape, with no clue why he was in such a hurry. Schlatt was quick on his tail, following him perfectly. 

"Where are we going, Tommy?" He asked. "No clue!" Tommy answered. Yep, that answered his question. 

Biomes flew by as they ran. Blue fire, purple and cyan trees, pillars of bone. Tommy stopped when he saw a particular cobblestone bridge, green arrows embedded in it. It was oddly familiar, in a bad way.

He floated over to it, Schlatt following silently. "I know this..." He whispered. He looked over the edge at the lava. Falling, wind, regret...

He shook his head, and followed the arrows. 

~~~

The arrows led to a portal. The portal led to an island. The island was also familiar. Full of bad memories of explosions and lost things. Stuff he couldn't quite remember, like music he forgot how to play. 

"Hey, are you okay, Tommy?" Schlatt asked tentatively. "You don't seem to be doing so good..." Tommy wiped his face, gray hand smearing with silvery liquid. He didn't even realize he was crying.

"I... I'm not sure." He said. Schlatt looked awkward. He ended up patting Tommy's head, not knowing what else to do. It ended up making Tommy feel better anyway.

Tommy floated away to the wreckage. Something tugged at his mind, and he grimaced. The holes were made by explosions, and he wasn't sure he liked that.

Schlatt followed in silence as Tommy floated away from the wreckage. Something else tugged at his mind. Snow, a wooden house, a trident zooming through the air... someone he trusted.

"Snow." He whispered. "Sorry, Tommy, what was that?" Schlatt asked. "Snow." He said, louder and turning to Schlatt. "We need to find snow." Schlatt nodded.

~~~

They searched for short amount of time. A snow biome was very close by, and Tommy spotted the snow through the trees. Schlatt said the snow stung him, but for Tommy, it hurt a lot. 

It ended up in Schlatt having to carry Tommy on his back so Tommy's feet didn't get cut off. He disliked it.

The landscape was really pretty. Clear skies meant no snow flew in their face, and the snow on the ground sparkled like fallen stars.

Snowdrops peeked through in some places, and white hares hopped around curiously, having never seen them before. It was nice.

They walked for a while. Schlatt never complained about carrying Tommy, and Tommy never questioned it.

They came across a small village. The people there looked at them, seemingly afraid. They were ghosts, Tommy supposed.

They moved on, wind blowing away the light pair of footprints left behind. 

"Wait, Schlatt, look!" Tommy pointed out smoke in the distance. "Over that hill!" Schlatt looked up, and saw the gray smoke against the blue gray sky. "You're right!" He ran up the hill.

There sat a small house. A stable attached to the house held a horse. Recognition sparked in Tommy's mind. "The horse is named Carl." He told Schlatt, who laughed. "How do you know that?" He asked. Tommy rolled his gray eyes. "I don't know."

They walked down the hill, silent as ever. "Do you remember this house?" Tommy wondered the same. "...a little bit. Not a lot, but a little." He answered finally. Schlatt nodded as they approached the house.

"Should we knock?" Tommy whispered. "Why are you whispering?" Tommy shrugged. "I guess we should knock." Schlatt decided. 

They walked up the stairs, and at the top, Tommy hops off Schlatt's back. No words are exchanged about it.

"Do you want to knock, or should I?" Schlatt asked. "I don't really care." He answered. Schlatt shrugged, and knocked on the door.

It took a minute for someone to answer. The wooden door opened, and there stood someone. Tear tracks marked their cheeks, with ruffled blond hair that was missing something. Tommy couldn't place what. A dark robe with a heart pin enclosed over baggy green shirt and pants. It was his dad, Phil.

He stared in shock at Schlatt, and Tommy vaguely wondered why. Phil's eyes roamed to Tommy, standing at Schlatt's side. "Uh, hi! Tommy said he remembered something so..." Schlatt trailed off when Phil grabbed Tommy and pulled him into his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emotions are very poggers B) so is ghost lore : D enjoy!

Sobs came from Phil as he cried into Tommy's shoulder. Hesitating a bit, Tommy put his hands around his father and hugged back.

He stiffened as a fractured memory flashed through his mind. A sword, embedded in the yellow sweater from before. Was Phil holding that sword? Who wore the yellow sweater?

They stood like that for a while. Phil eventually pulled away, tears in his eyes but mouth turned upward slightly. "Tommy, what happened?" He asked, glancing over at Schlatt.

"To be honest, i don't even know." He answered. Phil looked at Schlatt with a bit if disdain, which Tommy didn't get. "Come in. It must be freezing and the snow isn't good for ghosts, from what I've heard." Phil beckoned them inside, and the two walked in.

~~~

It was warm and comfy, though a little full. There were chests, furnaces, crafting tables, and even an ender chest. In the center of the room was a table and a few chairs. The people who sat at two of the chairs were more important.

First was a piglin hybrid. He registered as Techno, though Tommy had very few recent memories of him. He does remember him, which is good. A red cape, a crown, long pink hair, blood, fireworks...

He doesn't go down that path.

The other person is a bit more confusing. He does know who wears the yellow sweater now. A ghost like him and Schlatt sits next to Techno, and reminds him of Wilbur. Did Wilbur die? 

Memories flashed before disappearing again. Tommy knows his answer now, he guesses. 

His brother's brown hair was tucked away under a beanie. Gray skin and golden glasses, a yellow sweater with stains of blue dye. Familiar, but not.

Techno looks up when they step into the room. "Who was it..." His older brother's deep and monotone voice trails off when he and Wilbur see Schlatt and Tommy. Wilbur's face drops from an unusually cheerful smile into a shocked look. Techno is as still as stone.

He does a small wave. "Hi?" Tommy says quietly. What else is there to say? Schlatt patted Tommy's head encouragingly. Wilbur floated over, face suspended in disbelief.

"T-Tommy?" He stammered out, echoey voice quiet and shocked. "You're a ghost..." He nodded. "Don't remember how I died, though." Techno and Phil looked at each other knowingly.

"We, uh, we got a note from you." Phil said. Tommy turned towards him. "What does it say?" Phil blanched. How does he say what happened? Should he? "Are you sure you want to know what happened, Tommy?" Techno spoke for the first time, and Phil was thankful.

Tommy hesitated. Did he really want to know? He nodded. He did. It was probably important.

"Well, sit down, I guess." Techno said. "I'll get you two some soup." He stood up from his chair. "I'll help." Phil said, walking with Techno into another room.

Tommy and Schlatt sat down. While his friend seemed quite content, he wondered why his family disregarded Schlatt and ignored. They paid him no mind and focused on Tommy. He wasn't sure he liked that.

"So..." Wilbur started, trailing off as he avoided looking in Tommy's eyes. "...What do you remember?" Tommy stared at Wilbur. "I, uh, made a book." He said, taking it out. He had updated it multiple times with new developments, and carried it nearly everywhere. It was set in the middle of the table. Schlatt was smiling, as usual, Wilbur avoided eye contact, and Tommy was just confused.

Luckily for Wilbur, Phil and Techno came back with soup for everyone. Wilbur eagerly takes the bowl handed to him by Techno, while Phil hands Schlatt and Tommy a bowl each.

Everyone sits down, and all is quiet. Tommy plays with his soup, thoughts and memories swirling and shifting about in his brain, like glitter and water shaken about in a jar. Everything was confusing and overwhelming. Did he even want to be here? He felt like crying, screaming, throwing his bowl across the room, and laughing, all at the same time.

He had been living a peaceful life, with Schlatt on the farm. He was happy there. The memories flooding back were unfamiliar, like the person in them was different from him. Who was he, before he died?

He was so caught up in his thoughts, Techno's deep voice startled him. "Y'know you can eat that, right?" What.

"What do you mean?" Schlatt asked like he read Tommy's mind. "You can eat the soup. Just look at Ghostbur." Wilbur paused, spoon in mouth as he looked at them awkwardly. "It's unneeded, but you can." 

Tommy scooped up a bit of soup, chicken and potato mixed with a cream colored base, and swirled it in the spoon. After a second or two, he put the spoon in his mouth.

Memories came rushing in like a tidal wave, threatening to carry him into oblivion. 

Memories of fresh baked bread, hot and steaming with a bit of margarine smeared on.

Roast chicken with rosemary and other spices that he couldn't quite recall.

Techno's signature fluffy mashed potatoes, rich with butter, salt, and cream. 

The cupcakes, cakes, and cookies from a bakery he can't quite recall. 

The bitterness of black coffee compared to the warm and cozy sweetness of rich hot chocolate. 

The cool spiciness of peppermint candy canes. 

The smell of caramel apples they used to make around Halloween. 

The sour lemonade from summertime, and sitting in the shade.

Marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers from when they would camp in the forest together, as a family.

Then he realized something. The taste of the soup.

It was dull.

There was barely anything there. It was as if the colors and tastes were muted. Everything he ate would never be what it used to be. He would never get those tastes and feelings ever again.

It was enough to induce pure, unrivaled despair in someone.

The others looked at him, concerned as tears rolled down his face and floated around him in blobs. Wilbur spoke up a bit. "Taste for ghosts is very muted. We get the general sense of it, but everything else, every little complexity and note, is gone." Schlatt made an 'oh' sound whilst the other remained silent. 

Phil cleared his throat a bit, and Tommy snapped out of his misery. He could deal with that situation later, he guessed. "So, Tommy, you wanted to see the note, right?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories and dreams! I liked writing the dream sequence. It was fun :)
> 
> TW for Tommy's s*****e note. I tried my best, so feel free to leave criticism in the comments. 
> 
> Enjoy! :D

"So, Tommy, you wanted to see the note, right?" Phil asked. Tommy nodded. It might give him clarity about how he died. Phil nodded back at him. It was a small nod. After a short pause, Phil stood up and grabbed a sheet of paper from a nearby crafting table. It was old and a little burnt. He wondered why.

Phil handed the note to Tommy, who took it with eager hands. He quickly unfolded the letter. It wasn't too long, only taking up less than half the page. Written in unfamiliar chicken scratch that assumed was his, he didn't have trouble reading it. 

**Phil and Techno,**

**If you're getting this, it means I've done it. I think you'd know what I mean**

**I'm tired. I'm sad. Everything I worked for is gone.**

**No one has visited me and it's not like I can visit them.**

**Dream was the only one who visited, before I fucked everything up and he stopped too.**

**I'm just so tired.**

**-Tommy**

**PS. Fuck you techno**

**~~PPS. It's not your fault~~ **

He looked up from the paper. "Is this all?" He asked. Techno nodded, looking out the window. "Huh." Schlatt said. "What happened, anyway?" Wilbur grumbled something under his breath. Schlatt looked at him confused.

"Sorry, what was that?" He asked, head tilted to the side in curiosity. "Nothing." Wilbur replied, voice edging on cold. Tommy narrowed his eyes but said nothing. "Well, uh..." Phil started, clapping his hands. "You guys are probably tired, huh?" 

~~~

Phil and Techno had an extra room, thankfully, and while ghosts didn't need to sleep, they could. Similar to eating. Two makeshift beds were put together.

Tommy sat on the bed, mind still reeling from the day. Just this morning he had been back at the farm with Schlatt. Was this good? Was this bad?

Schlatt sat down beside him silently, holding some clothes. "Here, Phil gave me these to give you." He said, handing the garments over. They were silent for a while. 

Tommy eventually leaned his head on Schlatt's shoulder, who stiffened. He soon relaxed, though. 

It was oddly familiar to both.

~~~

Someone looking on turned away, and left the hall.

~~~

Tommy changed into the new clothes and laud in his bed. He drifted off quickly, sleep overtaking him like an avalanche.

Memories swirled in his mind's eye.

Sitting on a roof with Wilbur.

Training with Techno.

A familiar friend with brown hair and blue eyes.

Less pleasant ones were there too.

Swords clashing. TNT. Cruel words and sharp hits. Lava burning his skin. People he almost remembered.

A shade of green rested over the last memories. Small eyes of a ceramic mask watching him eerily. A name almost came to him, but he was pulled into another dream.

A snowy forest. Light snowflakes fluttered through the air, landing in his hair and on his face. He stood there, still and silent. 

Something told him he needed to run. 

He turned around, unreasonably cautious. A mask peering through the trees. Familiar, yet not. It came closer.

Tommy started running.

Breathes came fast, and he felt like he was suffocating even if he didn't have to breath anymore.

Warbled screeching came from behind as he ran as fast as he could. Voices shouted from the trees, both encouraging and discouraging. 

The white snow slowly turned into deep green grass, evergreens shifting into oak and birch trees. He burst through the trees into a peaceful meadow. 

He looked around in awe. Flowers waved in the wind as bees flew around the meadow. Faint notes of music echoed through the dream, and it felt peaceful.

Someone with brown hair sat on a bench on a hill a kilometer or two away. He decided to walk towards them, moving slowly. The flowers waved in the light breeze.

He got closer, and the person turned around. He got a glimpse at a pair of blue eyes and a mouth curved up in a kind smile. He couldn't remember their name, and it tugged at his heart as he awoke.

~~~

He woke up slowly, rather than rushing back into the world of the conscious. His eyes shifted from being blurry and cleared. He felt foggy, like when he first woke up after dying.

Memories from his dreams soon left him, and he sat up groggily. Schlatt was still asleep in the other bed, and a smile tugged at the goat man's lips as he dreamed.

He looked around at the room. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and he instinctively moved his hand up to cover his eyes. He then remembered that he was dead and couldn't damage his eyes anymore.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. He had gotten plenty of sleep, but yesterday had been rough and he was still pretty fatigued. 

He stood up, and noticed familiar royal purple eyes staring through the door. "Come in!" He called, and a slightly stunned Wilbur opened the door and floated in. "Dad and Techno made breakfast. It's on the table downstairs, if you like." 

He nodded, silent. They stood there awkwardly for a bit, Tommy thinking that the silence was peaceful more than anything. "I'll, uh, I'll leave." Tommy nodded again. "Okay, Wilbur."

~~~

Wilbur didn't know what to think when he saw the ghost of his brother. Emotions had raced through him and his mind, lost memories resurfacing all at once. Pogtopia was now a definite period of time, rather than an uncertain past. 

Hs felt terrible. Was he why Tommy was like this. Logsteadshire was still fuzzy. Was he the reason? If not him, who was?

When that thought came to him, he decided the only way forward was to make things right. He would find who caused Tommy to jump, and make sure justice was served.

Whoever caused this would pay, he would make sure of it.


	5. Chapter 4.5: Tubbo's Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little POV change. 
> 
> Y'all can have some comfort, as a treat.  
> Don't worry though. ;)
> 
> It's about half a normal chapter, but enjoy!

The lone president hunched over his desk, tears dripping onto the papers below. Knocking at the door echoed through the room, and Tubbo replied shakily, wiping tears away as he tries to compose himself. "C-Come in."

Quackity entered the room, a concerned look on his face and a short stack of papers in his hands. "The budgeting for this month is finished, Tubbo." He set the papers on the table. "Thank you, Quackity." He replied softly, head in hands as tears threatened to fall once more.

Quackity hesitated before leaving the room. He was concerned for his friend. Things had been rough in recent weeks. 

When Dream had announced that Tommy had disappeared, Tubbo was worried. Then, after checking everywhere they could think of, they checked the nether.

Tubbo was the first to find the letters, and a panicked scream had echoed out in the dark landscape when he read his, the letter on top. 

It made still Quackity's heart ache when he thought about it. Tubbo was technically still a child, and yet president of an entire nation.

He looked back into the room, hearing the soft sobs as Tubbo mourned his dear dead friend. He heard footsteps behind him and turned around. 

Fundy stood there, a similarly concerned look on his face. "How's he doing?" He asked. Quackity turned back to the room. "Not good." He answered. "We have to do something; we can't leave him like this forever."

The pair thought for a bit. What could they do to help Tubbo feel better? Fundy clapped a bit in realization. "A festival! We could hold a festival, with games and events!" He said. Quackity cringed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Fundy scratched the back of his head. "It'll be different this time. No murder or executions." He said. Quackity looked back at Tubbo, then turned to Fundy. "Fuck it. Let's do it." He said, and Fundy grinned. 

~~~

Tubbo heard his two friends and he looked up from the desk, face streaked with tears. "Yes?" He said, voice shakey. "We had an idea." Started Fundy. "We thought that maybe we could hold a festival!" Tubbo gave them a blank stare, eyebrows raised. 

"Y'know, to mourn for Tommy?" Tubbo looked away and played with pencil as he thought. "I doubt Tommy would want some stuffy old funeral, right? He always was one for games and such." Quackity chimed in.

Tubbo bit his lip, considering their words. Putting down the pencil, he turned back to his friends, lips upturned in a slight smile. "You're right, Tommy would never want something like that." He stood up, brushing off his clothes. "I need something to distract myself anyway."

His friends smiled. It was time to get back on track.


	6. (5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello hi I bring you food :)
> 
> Lore is always fun! Plus, a few insights into Techno, Phil, and Wilbur!
> 
> TW: Tommy's fall is mentioned, as well as references to self harm. The first little paragraph between two of these: ~~~ and the small paragraph after are the ones to avoid! After that, nothing else. ^u^
> 
> I'm scared for the 16th, but enjoy!

Tommy and Schlatt walked down the stairs, chatting about planting new crops on the farm. "I was thinking, maybe we could find some sunflower seeds!" Tommy said cheerfully. Schlatt nodded. "I'm sure it won't be too hard to do." He replied.

They failed to notice all three of the former's family members staring at them like they had both grown an extra head.

At least, until Techno spoke up. "What do you mean by a farm?" The pair looked at him, then looked at each other. They hadn't mentioned the farm? "Well, before this, me and Tommy lived on a farm together." Schlatt answered. Tommy nodded.

"So that's where you were the last two weeks." Phil said, and the two looked at him curiously. "Two weeks?" Said Tommy. "What do you mean?" He tilted his head to the side. The trio sitting at the table gave each other looks that Tommy couldn't quite read. Phil looked back at him. "Tommy, you've been dead for two weeks."

"What!?"

An odd aching feeling arose. He had someone to get back to, something. What was it, who was it? Who did he feel needed him so badly? His mind felt like an incomplete puzzle. Pieces were missing, ripped, broken, and some were from a different puzzle altogether.

What piece was he missing?

"I-I have to get back." He said. "To where?" Schlatt asked, concerned. "To... To..." He trailed off. "I... don't know." He looked at his hands. Stoney gray and translucent skin met him. It felt oh so wrong still. It was meant to be warmer. To feel warm. 

Static buzzed in his mind, trying to fill in the gaps of his memories. What was he missing? He was sick of this. He didn't want this, he never wanted this!

A small memory floated to the forefront of his mind.

~~~

He fell through the air, flipping in midair so he was falling headfirst towards the lava. Clarity entered his mind, in those final few seconds. All his problems seemed so simple, so far away. He could fix them, he was Tommy-fucking-innit!

Then, heat. Blistering, burning, aching heat as he hit the lava. Instant death, with little to no pain. He certainly chose a merciful way to die.

~~~

He flew back into reality, reeling from the brand new memory. What problems had he been talking about?

Why had he thought as though this was something he chose?

He slowly turned his hands around to look at his knuckles. Tiny scratches of healed scars lay there, and the faint pain of punching trees in frustration even when he had an axe. Was it really frustration?

He looked up at the table of people in front of him. It must have only been a second or two, but it felt like hours had passed. New memories sparked when he looked at each person. Formerly foggy scenes turned clear as crystal. 

Wilbur talking about blowing something up, and watching cruelly as Tommy fought in a pit. Phil's sword lodged into someone's chest, hands on its hilt and heart on his sleeve. Technoblade executing someone, then holding skulls and shouting a speech. No words came out, and yet Tommy knew what he said, word for word.

Techno pulled out a chair next to him. He was still slightly stunned from the slight sensory overload, and sat down silently. The smell of fresh bread and fried eggs further sent him into sadness. A small frown sat on his face as he toyed with the eyes on the plate in front of him. He smelled things perfectly fine, he just wished that taste was the same.

"Hey, uh, are you okay?" Techno asked, monotone voice usually concerned. "You seem kinda out of it." Tommy hummed. "Not sure." He said quietly. Techno looked at him for a bit longer, then turned back to his own food.

They ate quietly for a while. Once the two still living were finished, they stood up. "We both have some worn to do. You both can help, but you don't have to." Phil said, calm and kind. Tommy nodded as he scooped the last of the eggs into his mouth, the taste bland and almost bitter.

~~~

Techno was concerned.

It was something that didn't happen very often, which meant that he knew when it did. It often happened with Phil.

Tommy worried him. Tommy being dead worried him even more. Tommy being dead and seemingly not remembering either L'Manberg and Tubbo at all worried him the most.

Techno wasn't just concerned, he was worried. He couldn't tell if that was good or not.

~~~

Phil had been surprised, to say the least, when he answered the door and both the dead former president and his newly dead son stood there, dressed in clothes that were oh so familiar.

He had been surprised when Tommy seemed to have no recollection of Tubbo, and neither seemed to remember L'Manberg, the country Tommy and Wilbur worked so hard to fight for.

He was surprised at Tommy and Schlatt's relationship, how friendly they were with each other. He wasn't jealous...

Okay, maybe he was jealous. Wilbur seemed to feel the same.

He had a lot of regrets, to say the least. More than he ever thought he would have.

~~~

Wilbur hadn't slept. He didn't need to. He spent hours pouring over books and writing down what he remembered. He scanned pages upon pages. He felt like he was missing something.

His pen scratched upon paper as he wrote in Techno's small study. Techno hardly ever used it, so he turned it into his little base of operations. Papers were strewn across the desk and bookshelves. Books lay in tall stacks, from the grazing habits of sheep to how to reanimate the dead.

Techno certainly had quite a few interesting books.

After breakfast, before doing more research he skimmed through one of Techno's legend books. Small stories that were a bit of a breather from the heavy research. They were small stories of people from long ago, but a particular hero caught his eye and reminded him of someone he knew.

όνειρο, pronounced óneiro.


	7. (6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo POV! :D plus some Dream! We finally get to meet the masked man in person.
> 
> Sorry for taking a while :/. Also, i know i don't respond, but I read every single comment! Thank you for your feedback and don't be afraid to leave criticism. 
> 
> Also, formatting might be weird this chapter, as I'm posting from mobile. When I can, I'll fix it from my laptop. :)

The sky shone brightly as Ranboo hung up the brightly colored banners. They stood out against the dark wood of the houses in L'Manberg. Red, yellow, blue, black, and white, the colors of the L'Manberg flag.

  
Ranboo had only arrived a month or two ago. A lot had happened since then. One of the people he had first met, Tommy, robbed a house with him, nearly burning it down but stopping it before it escalated to far.

  
Tommy had gone to trial, defended him and taking the blame. He got exiled after that, and ended up dying.

  
He focused on the banners he was putting up. The nails were hammered in, the tall hybrid not needing a ladder to reach where the banners needed to be. 

  
Footsteps came from behind him, and he turned around, jovial smile on his face. He thought it was Fundy, or Quackity, or Tubbo. Anyone other than who actually stood there. His face fell.

  
Dream stood there, the infamous warrior's porcelain mask a stark white against tanned skin, blonde hair, and green clothing. "Dream." Ranboo said cordially. "Ranboo." Dream replied. Ranboo slowly turned back to putting up the banners.

  
"Why are you putting these up?"

  
Ah, so this was happening.

  
"Well, uh..." He trailed off as he turned back around to meet the green man. He, even without a face, still looked menacing. "Well, Tubbo decided, along with Fundy and Quackity, to hold a festival." He tugged at the two-toned face mask he wore. "Y'know, to honor Tommy and stuff."

  
Dream's head tilted to the side, in what Ranboo perceived as mock confusion. "Oh." He said. "Tommy would've wanted that, i suppose." The masked man looked into the distance. 

  
Ranboo liked to think he was good at reading people, and indeed he was. Dream clearly knew something no one else did. But did Ranboo really want to know what that was? He heard footsteps behind him again, and turned to Quackity running towards him.

  
"Tubbo's holding a meeting concerning festival progress." Ranboo nodded, turning to say bye to Dream. "Well, bye then..." He was nowhere to be seen, the only trace of him even being there was a muddy pair of footprints on the ground.

  
"Who was here?" Quackity asked. Ranboo turned back to his friend. "Dream was asking about the festival. I wonder why he left." Quackity's brows furrowed. "I'll tell Tubbo before the meeting starts. Dream's been weird lately." 

  
The two walked towards the third iteration of the white house, a small marble building with a community garden beside it. It had been constructed soon after Tommy ~~was exiled~~ left. 

  
~~~

  
Dream looked at the small piece of paper pinned to the wall. A date was circled there, the 16th of August. The day of the new festival Tubbo was holding.

  
He had to admit, he did feel some guilt towards Tommy's death. He had a major part in it that he would never reveal to anyone. He had lived for a long time, and while it desensitized him for a lot of things, he had yet to lose his conscience.

  
That may have been a lie. He was the one who pushed Tommy too far, after all.

  
Dream considered his situation. He could do something about the festival, cause chaos and try to disrupt what was meant to be a day of both mourning and celebration. That would almost certainly guarantee that he would be declaring war on L'Manberg. That was the opposite of what he wanted.

  
Or was it?

  
He turned to the map on the wall opposite to the calender. Using magic, everytime something new was built, the map updated. Everything was fine.

  
For now, of course. 

  
After all, a chaos deity's job is never truly done.

  
~~~

  
The pillars of the white house gleamed under the lantern light. Each member of the cabinet sat at the table, and each was in high spirits. Tubbo straightens some papers. "So, how's progress on the festival going?" He was the most cheerful he had been in days.

  
"Well," Ranboo started, a smile on his face. "things are going well! Progress in decorating is ahead of schedule, and Niki's cake for the event is almost done!"

  
Tubbo nodded. "That's good." He said, quiet sadness seeping into his tone. "How's the carving going for the marker?" He asked next. Fundy cleared his throat. "Well, it's going pretty good." Tubbo nodded. "Has Phil returned yet? I really do what to check with him that this is okay." 

  
Quackity shook his head. "No sign of him returning. I can't be the only one getting a little worried, right?" Tubbo's eyes thinned, and a concerned look appeared on his face. "I highly doubt that Techno would harm him." He looked at everyone. "I think he's just mourning still. He did lose his two youngest sons in the span of, like, 2 or 3 months." They nodded.

  
"Speaking of," Ranboo spoke up. "Fundy, Quackity, how are you two doing?" All three looked at him in curiousity. "I know that Tubbo was in a rough patch for a while there, but you two never really talked about Wilbur or Schlatt dying." Ranboo explained, tugging on his collar with the spotlight on him. "I wanted to know if you were doing okay." 

  
Quackity looked down at the table gravely, while Fundy's ears flattened against his head and he fiddled with his fingers. "...Did I mess up?" Ranboo asked nervously. "I'm sorry, I just noticed-" "I miss him." Fundy interrupted. "My dad, I mean." He looked off into the distance. "I miss fishing with him, and making drugs in the van." He laughed a little at the end.

  
"I know that Ghostbur is here now, and we should probably be, i don't know, thankful?" He stopped fiddling and his eyes dropped to the smooth woos of the table. "It's all just kinda bitter now."

Ranboo nodded, and Tubbo patted his shoulder as a sign of support. They turned to Quackity's chair, but it was empty and spinning, the door to outside showing the trees and grass.

  
They looked at the flung open door, a concerned look on each of their faces.


End file.
